


Bite Me

by surrenderdammit



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, BAMF!Stiles, Blow Jobs, Facials, I just wanted werefox!Stiles getting some action, I mean that in both senses, M/M, Minor Character Death, Not very canon, Scott is a potato, Sleuthing Stiles, Snark, Stiles is a born werefox, Very very altered season 1, werefox!stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 07:32:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrenderdammit/pseuds/surrenderdammit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alt. title "Wtf am I going to call this I'm scrolling through my playlist for ideas seriously omg titles I hate them okay fuck it that'll do".</p><p>Stiles' mom was the only reason they were going to move to Beacon Hills and so when she turns up dead, a supposed "animal attack", there's nothing for them there. Stiles dad takes him to New York where he establishes himself as a PI of the Supernatural persuasion. Unable to let go of the circumstances of his mother's death, Stiles does the best a kid can do pursuing the case against his father's wishes.</p><p>Years pass until suddenly Stiles is orphaned at sixteen  and on his way back to Beacon Hills, back to where it all seemed to have started.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bite Me

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so. I barely watch this show and so I try to keep things as vague as possible when it comes to canon. So don't expect the events of season 1 to be arranged by the canon. I meant it when I tagged this as an AU.
> 
> That said, I have an intense love for were-anything!Stiles as well as BAMF!Stiles. This might, uh, show. 
> 
> Please be kind and I apologise for any potential grammatical errors and/or typos. English isn't my first language and I've only posted one Teen Wolf fic before this. Aurgh.
> 
> Anyway, hope you'll enjoy!

.

He’s been following the wolf since he left New York. Stiles had been waiting for it, since the wolf’s Alpha had already up and left for the old Hale territory (Beacon Hills, where his mom was born, where his dad would’ve transferred to and where Stiles would’ve started middle school, where his mother was found _murdered_ ). It was the first possible break-through this ever on-going case had had since his father had gotten into his car and never returned and Stiles had been eager to follow but his father’s words had echoed in his mind. _“Always stay a few steps behind and never get caught. Never let them catch on. You’re a shadow, not a beacon.”_ It hadn’t been easy, but when it came to this, Stiles couldn’t afford to ignore his father’s advice even if thinking about him tore Stiles open and raw. This case had been snapping at their heels for years now – unknown to his father – ever since his mother had disappeared and turned up torn in half ( _animal_ attack, complete bull, the could never explain the burns), forcing the remaining two Stilinskis to seek out new territory and shelter, with Stiles barely nine years old and still learning to control his shift.

His father had quit his job as police officer and moved them to New York, offering his investigation services to those with the supernatural inclination as well as the philandering humans. Despite the change of location Stiles had been determined to find out who’d killed his mother, and when his father found out and forbid it Stiles just got better at hiding it. It takes years to collect information, there isn’t much a kid can do, but he gets better as he helps his father on cases and forges his own connections in the supernatural underworld. But it’s through his father he learns of the Hale fire, because neither can help but keep an eye out for news on Beacon Hills. Laura and Derek ends up being the last of the Hales, not counting the comatose uncle in Beacon Hills and the distant relatives in the Abbattista and the O'Dwyer packs in New York. Laura comes to them a year after the fire for help, having heard of them from the O’Dwyer Alpha, but his father turns her down as gently as he can.

Stiles starts keeping an eye on the Hales’ activities after that, taking any scrap of information he can while staying under the radar.

Five years later and the connection between the Hale fire and his mother’s killer was still speculation and the hunters were still on the loose, his father dead _in a car crash_ after mentioning he needed to talk to Deaton _in Beacon Hills_ (always fucking Beacon Hills, what the fuck, Stiles should start calling it _Silent Hill_ ), and the Hales were finally making their fucking move.  

He finds himself in the shit-hole of a town at the end of the journey, merely a few days behind Derek, the scent of his father already fading from his clothes. He’s never been to Beacon Hills, so he sniffed around for a bit, wary of the tension in the air around town and trying to pick up what his father might’ve wanted here to get some kind of clue as to what the hell is going on. It’s even more deaths, apparently. Laura, killed and cut in half, found in the woods. Just like his mother, minus the burns. There’s a new Alpha creeping somewhere and Derek is suddenly in the middle of it.

He was beginning to think this is what brought his father here but there’s too much shit going on to be sure.

Stiles should’ve left when he had the chance, doubled back because _his father is gone,_ but he’d caught the whiff of a human recently bitten and by the tang of it he could only assume it was a teenager, probably not older than himself.

So he might have a weakness for collateral damage. He was, to an extent, one such case himself.

Nonetheless, it wasn’t hard to track the scent of new teenage werewolf down, the blood was fresh and the bite couldn’t have been older than a few hours. It’s the middle of the night and Stiles is shifting uncomfortably outside a house, gearing up for a high jump. He’d located the new wolf’s window, and swiftly made his way up, peering inside while trying to not feel like a total pervert. He might be a wolf-stalking little shit with no sense of boundaries. At least he stayed out of the way and never directly bothered the ones he followed, unless the case dictated it.

That being said, his suspicions were confirmed. The new wolf was just a boy, skin baby-smooth and unmarred by the hard life of a rouge, hair fluffy and thumb dangerously close to his mouth. Stiles groaned. Who the fuck would bite this one? Seriously? Shaking his head, Stiles took a deep breath before knocking lightly on the window. The kid stirred, just a bit, so he kept going. Finally, he startled awake and with a fumbling move he was armed with a bat ready to strike. Stiles snorted before waving at him with a loop-sided grin. The kid gawked, stood still for a few moments, before inching forward.

Of course, he was a stupid one as well.

“What the hell?!” the kid mouthed, eying Stiles with a mix of terror and suspicion. Good, not totally lacking in the instinct department then. Hopefully he wouldn’t be _all_ instinct, but werewolves were unstable as it was; especially newly bitten ones, not to mention the added teenage hormones. Seriously, who _the fuck_ thought it was a good idea to turn _this one?_

Tapping the window with a fingertip, Stiles raised a brow and eyed the latch significantly before meeting the boy’s glare again. “Open?” Stiles mouthed back, to which the boy hesitated before darting forward and unlocking the window, stepping back almost immediately with his bat ready. Unconcerned, Stiles slid the window open but didn’t enter, just settled down comfortably at the sill.

“Seems like you got bit tonight, dude,” he said, grinning at the wide-eyed look of disbelief he got in reply. “It was a wolf, wasn’t it?”

Nodding slowly, the boy adjusted his grip on the bat. “How did you know? Who are you? What do you want?”

Stiles shrugged. “Just a concerned citizen. I could smell the blood, you’re not exactly subtle. And neither was the wolf,” he added the last with a grimace. The boy looked confused and Stiles sighed. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, have you? What were you even doing out tonight? You know there was a dead body in the woods, right?”

The boy’s stance stiffened even more, if that was possible. “Are you the killer?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Dude, _no,_ so far off! You got bit by a _wolf_ , in _California_. That not strange to you?” At the boy’s blank stare Stiles sighed. “Okay look, tomorrow the bite will have healed. You don’t smell like your body’s gonna reject it. So yeah, it’s gonna be healed and you’re gonna go through some seriously fucked up shit. You’re gonna need some help. Because I’m an idiot with no self-preservation, feel free to come see me with any questions you might have.” He removed one of his gloves and tossed it inside. “Just follow your nose.”

With that, he twisted around and jumped down, relishing the shocked gasp from the boy and flashing amber eyes at the curly-haired head sticking out of the window as he left with a wave and a wink.

He’d given the boy a chance to go for help; there wasn’t much else he could do. Not without alerting Derek Hale of his presence and the crazy Alpha lurking somewhere. God fucking dammit, he should’ve left while he could.

Fuck his fucking conscience and constant need for _answers_.

This town would be the death of him, and he’s not even kidding.

* * *

It took the new wolf all of a school day before he was wandering around the woods trying to sniff something out. If Stiles wasn’t trying to stay under the radar, he’d be cursing and yelling and clawing things to bits because this was _not_ the way Stiles had left his trail of scent to be followed. This was the way the body was, the way the Alpha and Derek were. The faint hint of Stiles should be undetectable for a wolf so new and hopefully vaguely familiar enough for Derek by now to be dismissed. Either way, it seemed like the boy had returned to the scene of the crime in search of s _omething_. Staying in a position where his scent would be carried away by the wind safely, Stiles shadowed the teen until he caught a familiar whiff of the youngest Hale. Keeping his distance, Stiles observed the confrontation. The teen had apparently lost his inhaler. Geez.

Breathing out a sigh of relief as Derek left them, Stiles continued to follow the teen wolf until they were a safe distance away from Derek’s prying senses.

Leaning against a tree at the edge of the woods, waiting, Stiles observed the teen’s reactions as he became aware of Stiles’ presence.

“Hey dude,” Stiles greeted, grinning wide to show off his teeth. “How’s the bite?”

* * *

He’d been putting it off because his version of dealing with shit is to ignore it in hopes it all goes away, but that wouldn’t change the fact that his father was dead and Stiles was trying not to let himself think he wished he was too. In the end he ended up sniffing Deaton out and demanding answers, getting few and leaving him with even more questions.

It was all starting to make sense, however, and Stiles wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing, or even a thing at all. For the most part it was a struggle to not just lie down and tell the world to fuck off while he let himself slowly slip away. However, the numbness in him was slowly starting to catch the heated fire of anger and he sort of snapped once he found out the Argents were _back_ in town. Back as in, they’d been here _before._

He almost looked up the whole family to commit mass murder when the dates coincided with _everything._ His mother, the fire, his father, Laura, _everything_.    

Instead he broke the rules and announced his presence to Derek Hale.

“Enough fucking around, Hale,” he growled. “Give me everything Laura had on the fire and lets get this fucking over and done with, starting with the crazy fuck Alpha.”

* * *

Dealing with Derek turns out to be a gamble. Either Stiles is left with a truly impressively intense migraine, some broken bones or he’s cackling evilly in sadistic delight as he pushed Derek’s buttons with a degree of precision that should impress the wolf if he weren’t too busy being riled up. The first thing Stiles learns is that Derek is absolute shit with planning ahead, going through with plans, and just planning in a general sense. Though Stiles will allow that he’s a beta without his Alpha, it’s not much of an excuse when Stiles has been his own Alpha for far longer than his father’s death. He’s losing patience with Derek and his lack of knowledge because if Laura hadn’t been teaching him he should’ve got his shit together and get someone who would. Like the O’Dwyer Alpha, because that’s one badass Irish motherfucker but he’s kind and gentle in a Dad kind of way that Stiles think should be mandatory for the position.

But not everyone is like Stiles, he reminds himself. Not everyone scrambles to know everything there is to know about _everything_. So while Derek’s plan to beat the answers out of Deaton is total shit, at least it’s a _plan_. That’s progress, right? Even if he didn’t actually tell Stiles much beyond “Let’s try Deaton again. Maybe I can be more persuasive.”

“If this is your idea of persuasive, I am astounded,” Stiles stated, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries not to cave for the urge to simply lie down and stare at the ceiling questioning his life and his choices. Gesturing wildly toward were Deaton is currently out cold in a chair, Stiles makes impatient noises. “I mean, look at him! _So_ persuaded! He’ll tell us _everything_ now and he’ll be so cooperate, _if only he was conscious!_ ”  

Derek scowls with his stupid caterpillar eyebrows and kicks the chair, as if it’s a good idea to jolt someone awake with _more violence_. Wolves, seriously. Stiles makes strangled noises of the dying whales before pushing Derek aside to check on the vet slash shady shaman.

“Ever heard of exchanging favors and information?”He pokes at Deaton’s cheek, mentally declaring him alive and most-likely-okay, he’ll-be-fine. “Negotiations? Find a common goal and work towards it together? No?”

“He could be the Alpha,” Derek grunts, as if that even makes sense. Stiles rolls his eyes.

“No, he really couldn’t. If you’d used your words and shared this concern I could’ve put it to a rest for you. My dad knew him, he’s one of those humans with magic,” he scrunches his nose up at that. “Magic, so unfair. Why can’t foxes be like kitsune? That would be so cool, seriously Derek, so cool.”

“What.”

Stiles sighs as he straightens and pats Deaton’s shoulder. “We’ll have to take him with us now if we’re gonna meet up with Scott and make it in time. I’m not comfortable leaving that kid without supervision for too long. If we’re late who knows what trouble he’ll get into and we have enough trouble as it is Derek, okay? Okay, good. Let’s roll.”

He leaves Derek to do the manhandling of dragging Deaton to the car and resolves to sit Derek and Scott down for a serious talk on sharing is caring because this is getting ridiculous on both ends.

(“No Scott, dating Allison is not worth getting us killed. Put it on fucking hold until we get this mess sorted. I don’t care that you didn’t start it, neither did I, but we’re in it and I value my life and will not have a hormonal fucking kid being the cause of my death. Get your shit together and look at the bigger picture of a while, man. Romeo and Juliet is not a healthy frame of reference. A few days of creepy obsession ending in unnecessary death on both sides isn’t the way you want this to go dude.”

Scott didn’t take any of his lectures well, but Stiles was born a Were and though wolves tended to be stronger than foxes they were also bound to the moon and its moodiness. With it came a bigger issue of control and base instinct. Stiles is smart even for his kind and learned to battle brute strength a long time ago.)

When they get to the high school with Deaton in tow, Stiles has calmed down somewhat but still takes pleasure in the way the steering wheel is creaking beneath Derek’s hands by the time he parks. Stiles is a firm believer of conditioning and hopes Derek will catch on to the verbal onslaught quota in relation to his stupid choices and realize the less stupid he is, the less annoying Stiles will be.

Stiles realizes he might take to this with a bit more glee than should be considered healthy, but he’s always had a thing about poking at things and watch them go RAWR.

“What’s buzzin’, cuzzin’?” Stiles greets a bewildered Scott as he slips out of the car, keeping himself between the teen and Deaton because he knows how well this will go down. The moment Scott catches on, he knows he was right, and side-steps the raging lunge easily, tripping Scott up and shooting Derek a look to stay out of it when he catches the older man growling.

“Scott! Calm down! He’s fine and we’re not going to do anything to him, okay? Calm down!” Stiles urges, keeping calm himself to demonstrate what a great state of mind that is. Claws retract though eyes are still flashing. Progress.

“Right,” Stiles says. “So, what was it you wanted? You said you knew how to find the Alpha?”

Scott nods, momentarily distracted but still glaring. “Yes, just wait here okay? I’ll be right back. Don’t touch Deaton, I’m serious.”

Frowning, Stiles crosses his arms and is about to comment but Scott is already off, seemingly determined to ignore them. He gestures his general disbelief with flailing arms and looks over to Derek. “Seriously?”

Derek shrugs. “The Alpha is obviously crazy.” Stiles narrows his eyes for a moment before grinning widely and rocking back on his heels, clapping his hands together in glee. “Oh my God, it jokes!” It causes Derek to growl and push at his shoulder but Stiles is busy laughing over the fact that they’re bonding over this of all things never mind that they’re both orphans (though Stiles suspects Derek is actually in his twenties, at least) and sort of hiding from the law like fugitives in a bad after school special (because Stiles refuses to become part of the system and dropped off the radar the moment his only legal guardian was reported dead. He’s seen some half-hearted attempts at missing posters but it’s surprisingly easy to become a statistic).

It’s a few moments later when the pathetic attempt at a howl cracks through the school’s speakers and Stiles is anything but amused when the second attempt roars through the night and rattles his bones.

“What the fuck is wrong with this kid!” Stiles yelps, grabbing at his head and momentarily wishes for longer hair if only so he could pull it out in frustration. Derek is tense and growling by his side and this couldn’t be more of a disaster if they tried.

When Scott comes over looking _pleased,_ Stiles is about five seconds from punching him in the fucking face and maybe straighten that jaw line out.

“What were you thinking?” he hisses instead, poking him in the chest with a clawed finger. “You just called the Alpha here! You just served us up like a fucking buffet, you _potato!_ We don’t have the means to fight an Alpha, let alone an allegedly crazed one, up front!”

That’s as far as he gets, freaked out and on edge, before there’s a roar way too close and then he doesn’t have time to think anymore.

His life, seriously.

* * *

The ultimate show down ends up at the Hale house because that’s how it was always going to be.

“Your mother saw me with Derek. Like you, she was too smart of her own good. I had just barely gotten started on working the boy over, I couldn’t let her ruin that.”

Kate Argent is a piece of work and Stiles tries not to think too hard on what her words actually mean because everything about her is poison and he can’t afford messing up surrounded by hunters and wolves. His fingers twitch in his pockets, moving quick as they tap out the signal in a simple text that’s off in a matter of seconds.

“And my dad?” he snaps out, to keep her talking, to keep the attention where it is and maintain the status-quo until he can make a move. Kate grins, sharp and deadly but crazed.

“Word got out that someone was sniffing around. He made it too easy, basically fell into my open arms. It’s just you two left now. My trophies.”

Later, when her throat is ripped open and the red of Peter Hale’s eyes bleed out, he’ll talk himself out of the disappointment of not being the one to kill her because he can never let himself enjoy the blood on his hands lest it goes too far. For now he ignores the burn in his gums were his fangs are begging to come out and reflects on the mess that’s been left behind after too many years of grief and suffering.

“Sooo... Do you know _anything_ about being an Alpha?” he asks where he sits next to Derek in his car. Silence is his only answer and Stiles resigns himself to his fate. “Of course not. First thing first; we need a place to stay that isn’t a giant beacon for trouble and creepiness.”

Derek rolls his eyes but doesn’t comment, so Stiles continues. “Then you prepare to be schooled, because we do not need Crazed Alpha Take Two, no sir, we do not. There will be no biting, consensual or otherwise, until you know what the fuck you’re doing.”

“You sure about that?” Derek says, grinning to flash Stiles his fangs. “I’ve got the fangs for it and all.”

Stiles rolls his eyes as Derek pulls up and Stiles takes in his surroundings for the first time.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Derek gets out of the car, slamming the door with a wink and starts walking. Stiles scrambles after him, flailing.

“No, Derek, no! I am not living in a train depot, what the hell, Derek!”

He’s ignored. Stiles grumbles and kicks a crumpled can of coke but ends up sighing and following the retreating back of Derek. It’s a nice view but Stiles is annoyed and Derek is vexing and there’s so much shit to deal with that he really doesn’t want to think about but he has to at some point.

“The bite wouldn’t affect me,” he mutters and lets out a yelp of surprise when Derek is suddenly there and pushing him against a wall.

“Depends on my intentions and what effects you’re looking for,” he murmurs, caging Stiles in with his arms on either side of Stiles’ head. Frowning, Stiles tries to ignore the tug of arousal in his gut but Derek’s smirking like he knows and of course he does, Stiles can smell it in the air himself. It’s curious that he can scent Derek as well but he’s not complaining. As far as distractions go, this would be one of the best ones he could’ve wished for, though he wonders at Derek’s intentions.

Slipping his hands up to rest on his shoulders, Stiles feels the tense line of the man in front of his and sees hints of shadows underneath his eyes. He thinks he might as well take Derek’s mind off of these past few weeks too and leans in to brush his nose along his jaw until he’s breathing against his ear, nipping at the lobe with sharp teeth.

“I bite too, you know,” he murmurs, a bit breathless and Derek presses closer, sliding a thigh between Stiles’ legs and pushing up as Stiles grinds down with a moan. It causes Derek to swear under his breath and pull back enough to claim Stiles’ mouth in a forceful kiss that flushes Stiles’ skin red with excitement. He’s done this before in more questionable places than an abounded train depot but it’s been a while and he’s eager and greedy to give himself up to the pleasure of a good fuck. He takes deep breaths of air, letting Derek’s scent and that of their mingled arousal cloud the stale smell of the abounded building. He’s sliding his hands under Derek’s tight shirt, pressing his own thigh up to meet the grind of Derek’s hips and he can feel him hot and hard underneath the fabric of his jeans. It makes his mouth water and he groans into the kiss, biting at Derek’s lips and soothing him with his tongue as he rakes sharp nails down an impressive chest, catching at his nipples and enjoying the sounds Derek’s making against him.

With a small but insistent push, Stiles tries to create more space between them so he can slide down to his knees but Derek keeps tightening his grip until he seems to catch on with a loud groan as he steps back and almost pushed him down himself. Stiles bites hard at his hip at that, shirt pushed up enough to reveal skin, and tastes blood but when he looks up Derek’s grinning wide and sharp, mocking. Settling down more comfortable on his knees, Stiles shoulders his way between Derek’s legs and nuzzles at the bulge of his groin, shooting a heated look up through his lashes and doesn’t stop his own grin at the groan that rumbles out of Derek at that.

With one last nuzzle he leans back enough to tear the jeans open with impatience, unhooking the belt and almost tearing the button off before getting the zipper down. Derek’s cursing under his breath again and wriggling jeans and boxers down his hips with just as much impatience so Stiles doesn’t bother to check himself but gets right down to business by taking a hold of the base of an impressive cock and swallowing it down until he’s satisfied. The salt musk of sex hits his senses as he breathes it in and rolls it against his tongue, shoving his free hand down to grind against his own cock as he works Derek over with tight lips and an eager tongue. Derek’s cradling his head with his hands, nails scratching at his scalp but making no move to guide him.

“Fuck Stiles,” he hisses, hips twitching. “I’d tug your hair if I could. Choke you on my cock, god. You’re amazing at this, knew you would be with a mouth like that. _Fuck_.”

Stiles is opening his pants and pulling his own cock out, squeezing it and moaning in relief because holy shit, Derek. He takes as much of him as he can down his throat, swallowing, before he’s pulling back to suckle at the tip while his hand works the shaft. He lets off for a moment to breathe in deep and lick and nuzzle down to his balls, a hint of teeth like a threat that’s causing Derek to tense up and jerk in surprise but the heat in his scent simply spikes and that, that’s fucking hot.

He leans back to look up at Derek through lidded eyes, slowly drawing his hand back down to his own cock to joins the other, letting Derek’s dick simply rest against his lips as he breathes and licks for a bit. “Fuck my mouth,” he demands, hips twitching as he jerks himself off and Derek’s flashing red eyes at him with a growl and has Stiles shivering in delight. He lets his mouth fall open and Derek doesn’t waste any time to push back in, the hands gripping Stiles’ head firm with a purpose now and he keeps going until Stiles’ nose is buried in this pubes and the back of his throat is clogged up with dick. He pauses there long enough for Stiles eyes to water before he starts up a steady rhythm that falters every now and then as Stiles twists his tongue or swallows. Stiles isn’t far from coming, leaking precome and twitching in overwhelming arousal. He flexes his ass where he’s kneeling and he’s dying to be fucked but this is so good, they can do that later. For now he simply slips a finger behind his balls and press down, his other wrist flicking at an up-turn and smearing more precome down his dick. His orgasm doesn’t so much sneak up on him as it slams into him full force and it’s got him moaning and for a few moments he loses control over his breathing because his mouth is full and Derek’s swearing where the scent of come slams into him.

“Fuck, you like that? Coming while I’m fucking your mouth,” he pants, his pace increasing. Stiles is coming down from the edge pleased, moaning his agreement, lazy now that he’s no longer focused on the escalation of pleasure. Now he’s enjoying it for the sake of enjoyment, wiping his hands clean Derek’s jeans because he can and likes the annoyed growl before it’s cut off with a curse and he slips them around to squeeze Derek’s ass. When he comes, Stiles is jerked off Derek’s cock as he finished himself off with a last few strokes, coming on Stiles face in retribution going by the shit-eating grin he’s sporting through deep, satisfied moans. Stiles wipes at the come, wrinkling his nose at it and end up burying his face against Derek’s stomach and smearing it in before he can move away. Stiles laughs at Derek’s annoyed growl, ducking away from the hand trying to hit the backside of his head, and stands up with a grin of his own.

They’re tucking themselves away as Derek leans against the wall next to Stiles, more relaxed than Stiles has seen him in a long time. Not since New York.

“Now what?”

Derek raises a brow and shrugs. Rolling his eyes, Stiles shoves at him. “The worst. You are the absolute worst and I want a bed. Does this place have a bed Derek? No it does not. Therefore it does not qualify as a living space.”

“And the high school did?”

“Shut up,” Stiles scowls. “I refused to live in your House of the Haunted and the school was always going to be a temporary thing.”

Shaking his head, Derek pushed off the wall and starts looking around the place. “I’ve got some blankets and pillows in the car. Go get them then come find me, I’ll look for a suitable place to crash.”

“You’re not my Alpha,” he mutters before doing as told, because he wants to, not because Derek told him so. He’s allowed to be all of his sixteen years of petulant teenager sometimes, okay?

“You keep telling yourself that,” he hears Derek say, sounding amused, so he flips him off over his back as he walks away.

Fucking wolves.

.

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so, I don't write much things with actual plot so uh things might not have made much sense. Sorry? :,D
> 
> I just want the Sterek okay the rest just sort of happened.


End file.
